Behind the Shades Part of Freaky Fic Project 2002
by Stormy Owl -An Onymous
Summary: Lars joins the MIB! The personal adventure of the hottest bodyguard ever! In case I forget, this fic is part of the Freaky Fic Project, 2002. Feel free to laugh, jump, dance, and review!
1. Default Chapter

A/N I was discussing this idea with another author (CrazyNut2002), and she said I should write it. So that's what I'm doing. Feel free to laugh, cry, do a dance, and review.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Princess Diaries, MIB, and half this story was thought up by CrazyNut2002. This fic only exists because I am taking part in the Freaky Fic Project, 2002.  
  
Setting: Agents J and K are standing at the top of a cliff, looking cool in their MIB suits, and Frank... well, he's having a nap. Surrounding them were really ugly aliens with green, snake-like skin covering their legs, and slime oozing out of their bloated stomachs and heads.  
  
**Chapter 1- From the files of the MIB**  
  
Agent J, you take the mini-cannon gun, (A/N, I don't know what that cute little gun is called) and I'll have this baby, Agent K fingered his shiny new Machine-gun.  
  
Dangerously near, a group of man-sized, exceedingly ugly aliens roared, and tried to get a bite of agent K.  
  
Normally, J would've laughed himself sick, but these aliens were no joke. He contented himself by firing blast after blast of his mini-cannon gun, enjoying it's overwhelming power. Out the corner of his eye, he watched K expertly firing round after round at the aliens.  
  
Soon, there were only two aliens left. K looked desperate. He cried. I've run out of ammunition! Uh-oh. Now what? Doing his best to sound reassuring, he said, Don't worry, partner, I'll finish them off. He blasted the alien in front of him, tearing a huge hole in it's stomach, causing it to shriek and die almost instantly. But, forgetting how close he was to the alien, did a slight miscalculation, and the impact of the mini-cannon gun sent him flying backwards...  
  
...and down the cliff, into the waters below. K shouted from above. Frustrated and powerless, -knowing his life might end anytime soon- J fired his mini-cannon gun at the waters beneath him, sending himself shooting back up and onto the cliff from which he had fallen. Landing on the one remaining alien, and not daring to fire the overkill weapon in his hand, J punched and kicked it for all he was worth, finally giving up, and kicking it overboard instead.  
  
J ran to the befallen Agent K, and tried to shake him awake. The only response was a groan, as K clutched his chest, where his heart was. Frantically checking him, (A/N That is NOT meant to be sick, to all those with polluted minds) J discovered that his partner had been clawed, from the chest to his back. He wasn't going to make it.  
  
I know, K said to J. It's quite obvious... He coughed up some blood, then continued. It's...why I was fit to....join....the MIB. I.....had no......fa....family, so my......death......could go ......unnoticed. And with that, he fell into the clutches of death. Agent J stared. Where were the thanks for being a great partners? It was strange how K, even at his moment of death, could waste his breath on a little lesson. Performing the eye-closing ritual, he gathered K's limp, (but somewhat heavy) body in his arms, and headed for the safest way back to normal ground level.  
  
~The following week, and at the MIB HQ~  
  
Agent J, you _must _find another partner, that's three times already that you nearly died, if not for our men finding you. I do not wish to have spies following you, and to ensure my peace of mind, you must find a new partner. And that's final. With that, Agent Z walked off, uninterested in Agent J's many protests.  
  
J sighed. He had to find a way to meet lots of new people, because he really didn't care to spend too much time searching. Agent K had been buried at a 3-hour funeral, given by the MIB, and everyone there had attended. J himself had cried (though he was loathe to admit it), and everyone had stayed a little while after the funeral. Now his partner, and (he admitted to himself,) best friend was gone, and he'd have to spend... possibly _hours_ searching for a new partner.  
  
Then he got a brainwave, and knew just what he had to do.  
  
A/N So how was that? All this stuff is kinda hard to write... I might have to read some Horowitz for inspiration. But those who know me can PROBABLY tell that's only an excuse! :D  
Oh, and don't worry, because this really _has_ something to do with the Princess Diaries.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own MIB, or The Princess Diaries. Half the story goes to Crazynut2002, who thought it up with me, and this fic only exists because I'm part of the Freaky Fic Project, 2002. Feel free to read, laugh, cry, do a jig, and review.  
  
A/N Hey people, sorry if this is confusing, and I make tons of mistakes or something, because I'm kinda tired. I slept kinda late... or early, depending on how you look at it. This takes place from Princess in Love, or Third time Lucky, but Mia doesn't go to Genovia.  
  
Warning: Absolutely nothing to do with Mia. This is for the Lars fans... _are_ there any out there?  
  
**Chapter 2- Princess graces a concert  
**I've never seen her change so suddenly from ecstatic, to downcast. She did, though, when Michael told her that he couldn't go to the West Life concert with her tomorrow. He's a good boy, and his reason was very sensible- that people might think thoughts if a princess agreed to come to a concert, and brought along a date.  
  
Of course, the Princess hadn't cared, but again Michael was right- her future consort would definitely care. I've been around the princess long enough to know what she was thinking- _I don't _want_ some other escort, Michael. Can't you see I only want you?_ But I think Michael knew, too. After all, they had both finally admitted their feelings to each other. What a relief, too! I've never seen a boy and Princess so in love with each other, and yet so...shy! If I were like them, I probably wouldn't have three wives by now. Which, actually, would be a good thing. They all nag so much!  
  
But, anyway, the Princess looked disappointed, and went, Then she mumbled some excuse, and turned to go home. Before following her, I returned Michael's sad look with as reassuring a look as I could muster. _Then_ I followed her back home, easily matching her steps with my own. I stayed five steps behind her, as she'd told me.  
  
When we got back to her home, she busied herself by writing in her diary all day. I took a peep, and it was all about how she thought Michael didn't love her after all. Oh, please. No, not that again! To think I might have to go through all the sad puppy looks again, all those journal entries, and all those notes with Michael. It's too much. And I, as a bodyguard, am not really supposed to interfere with the personal life of my charge... But still!  
  
I've seen more pining and sad looks than a guy can bear. Someone have pity on me! I think an exception should be allowed in this case.  
  
~The next morning~  
  
I picked (a rather disgruntled) Mia up. I knew she wanted to cancel, but she couldn't since she'd already told the press that she was attending the concert. The limo definitely had its fair share of silence during that trip.  
  
We were hassled to the seats of honour, and when everyone had finished making a fuss over Mia, she turned to grumble to me. I don't even like Westlife, Lars! Well! And that is why you agreed to attend? Mia shot me a rather nasty look. She muttered.  
  
_And Michael,_ I thought, but did not say. Instead, I gave her the obvious reaction. Aha! _Now_ everything's clear.  
  
I could tell Mia was resisting the urge to laugh. It felt good to make her smile, at least. She was getting so upset over Michael declining her invitation.  
  
Just then, the lights dimmed, and A figure stepped onto the stage. Ah! I thought. So _he's_ the Westlife dude. Though I must say he's got me stumped. What kind of guy would call himself Westlife? Being a bodyguard, my thought naturally ran to the more dangerous kind of guy. I tensed, and prepared myself for whatever was coming up.  
  
~In the past, half an hour before the Westlife concert.~  
  
J got up to the group of singers, smiling at them and asking of autographs. The Westlife members seemed rather uncertain, -no one was supposed to be backstage other than the crew and band members- but Kian smiled, and got out a piece of paper. He signed it, shook J's hand, and gave the autograph to him. J did not take it. Thankyou, but I meant a photo of all of you, and your autographs on the back.  
  
The members (A/N I know nothing about Westlife, it's my cousin who likes them, so I'm just using them as dummies, no offence to Westlife lovers) automatically got into a group photo position, and smiled as J pulled out a rather interesting camera, a metal, tube-like device.  
  
J put his shades on, and counted down. A bright flash caused the band members to blink in a rather foolish manner. You all need a good break. Kian, you had better get rid of those eye bags, all of you except Nicky need a better sense of humour, and you guys are seriously lacking in fashion. As he saw the effect beginning to wear off, he hastily added, Oh, and go spend time with your family.  
  
The band members stared at each other, then all hurried into the different directions in which their homes lay. J checked the time. Five minutes until the show started. Breathe in....out. And in....and out. Checking his nerves, he got up on stage and began the show of a lifetime.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own MIB, TPD, and CrazyNut2002 helped me with this story. This fic would not exist but for the Freaky Fic project, 2002. Which I happen to co-own with CrazyNut2002.  
  
A/N It's 11:50pm. I can't think straight. Why do I always write late at night? Night... time of the drow. Time of the assassin. Something like that, from one of R.A. Salvatore's books. Is anyone liking my fic so far? Please say you do, all of my stories are totally different, and SOMEONE has got to like _one_ of them! Umm... feel free to dance? laugh? and review. I can't remember what it was. Told you, it's late.  
  
**Chapter 3- Lars's first encounter with Aliens**  
  
The figure on stage bowed. Apologetically, or formally, I could not decide. Ladies and Gentlemen, sorry, but Westlife is unable to attend. Instead, Will Smith will be performing tonight.  
  
~J's POV~  
I was rather pleased with myself. I'd managed to come up with a name so quickly.  
  
~Lars's POV~  
Will Smith, Westlife, it doesn't make a difference to me, except perhaps Will Smith sounds a bit more normal. The princess, however, (at my side) perked up. I guess she likes Will better than West. Whatever.. teenagers. I'll never get them.  
  
That Will guy started singing some wild west song. Obviously, no one was very disappointed, because everyone began to dance! The princess included! Deciding that I had better blend into the crowd, I tried my best to sway from side to side, only quickly, and in rhythm... can we just leave it at I failed miserably? They really should include dancing in the bodyguard requirements.  
  
Besides, what _is _with these singers nowadays, anyway? Will, Wild, West, Life, and an excessive usage of the word, Love'. Rebels. Just because they have been denied usage fo one teeny weeny four lettered word, they come up with so many more to spite the decent folk.  
  
By the time that Will dude got to the last song, he was sweating, and I wondered why he didn't remove those shades. But was he ever up to the task, making it a brilliant masterpiece. I even forgot myself, and danced... properly! Like one of the screaming teenagers... the joy of being young has seeped into my bloodstream! This last, so fantastic song, was titled, Nod ya head'. Man, can that Will dance! He makes a bodyguard jealous!  
  
Just as he was finishing the song, (it sounded like it, because he was slowing down) a young lady came up to him, screaming in apparent excitement.  
  
And -no, I don't believe it- but it's true!- impossible!- I saw it myself- You're half mad from dancing- well, she turned into a hideous creature. She- _it_ ran to Will, and began to claw at his face. Fearing for the princess, I automatically retrieved my phoenix, and flipped it to grenade toss. Aiming quickly, I fired a grenade straight into the... _thing_'s mouth. Pretty good shot, if I do say so myself. It exploded, with no one around hurt. I cooly blew the smoke from my phoenix, then pocketed it. Hey! Every bodyguard needs his fair share of publicity! Everyone stared at me.  
  
The only damage done was to Will's glasses, but a young girl game up, and handed him her own shades. Will accepted them, and put them on. Then, casually, (as if all that had happened was normal!) he went back to his song. Everyone went back to their wild cheering and dancing, and seemed to have forgotten the strange incident, but I felt too sick to dance. At the end of the song, Will bowed.  
  
Thank you all for listening to me instead of Westlife. Who, as I said, were unable to attend this concert. I hope most of you got your money's worth. He paused, then added, Please, all of you, take off your shades that I may take a photo of such a wonderful audience. Everyone complied, but I refused. As Will's gaze fell onto me, I stood defiant, and challenged him silently to make me remove my shades. However, Will seemed strangely pleased that I had chosen to retain my shades. I wonder why?  
  
But I did not have time for pondering, because he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a shiny silver cylinder. Smile, everyone! He said, then flashed the strange device. In a bored tone, he told them, You have just watched a fabulous Will Smith concert, because the Westlife one was cancelled. Go home to your families, and take care of them. I rolled my eyes at the fabulous' bit. I wondered what he thought he was doing, as if they were even listening!... but, if not, why was the area so quiet? And why was everyone leaving?  
  
Mia, too, was leaving, and as I turned to follow her, I felt someone catch hold of my arm. Agent J of the MIB, he said, please may I have a moment? I turned around to decline, when I saw who it was that had spoken.  
  
Will Life.  
  
A/N Yes, that was deliberate, and yes, it's supposed to be funny. [Laugh] It's also supposed to be a cliff-hanger, so in total, it's meant to be a funny cliff-hanger. Ok, got that? Good. I can't be bothered to write more, because it's 12:40am. Wow, took me that long to write a chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N I only ever seem to write at 12am or later... wonder why. It's my time of inspiration!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own MIB, the cast, or characters. I do not own the Princess Diaries. This fic only exists because of CrazyNut2002, and the fact that I'm part of the freaky fic project, 2002.  
  
I grabbed hold of the Princess so that she wouldn't be lost in the crowd. She opened her mouth to question, me, when she saw that MIB character wannabe. She closed it, and waited while I completed my business with this mad person. Yes, I am certain he was mad. I have NEVER heard of Will Life before this, and now he's saying he's J, of the MIB.  
  
Just because I'm strong and big doesn't mean I'm brainless. Too many people have made that mistake, and too often. So maybe I didn't study in University. And maybe I've never before heard of Will Life. But I HAVE seen all the James Bond films, since Lilly and the Princess watch them so often. And I HAVE seen the Men in Black. Both part one and two, I'm proud to say. And I KNOW that the actor for J was Michael Jackson, and not some no-name like Will Life.  
  
So when he goes around claiming he's J, I know he's faking it. However, I decided to play it dumb. I turned to him, and said, in my most dense voice. You're _what_? He seemed to know my game, and said, impatiently, I'm agent J of the MIB. Please, may I have you name? Have my name? Then he'll be Lars Life. Haha! That's laughable. I stared at him a little while, before the Princess dug her elbow into my stomach, and whispered, he wants to know your name. Well, I felt foolish enough without having to fake even more stupidity. Oh, I'm Lars. I said.  
  
I wondered what it was that he wanted me for. I expected him to engage me in social conversation before bringing up the request, or whatever he wanted of me. But I was wrong. Well, then. Lars,- He chuckled a little at my name. What, it was way better than his! Lars, would you like to join the MIB?  
  
Never would I have expected _that_ to come up so bluntly... yet he said it with a perfectly straight face, that I could not doubt his claim of membership to the MIB. What's more, I felt a strange, compelling sensation to join, as he'd suggested.  
  
Strange, I'd always wanted to joing some secret agency, or something like that. And now, this strange person had just offered me my heart's desire. But still... what about the princess? I wanted to accept, but I gestured at the princess, saying, I'm her bodyguard. I must find someone to replace me. Will Life smiled. He had a nice, easy smile, and I liked it. Don't worry, we can get one of the other agents to cover up for you, and we'll let your employer know too. He grinned suddenly. You know, Larsie boy, you and I, we're gonna have a lotta adventures, tight spots, and fun. I can see it all coming now, only a few metres from my face.  
  
Yes, I agreed. We would have a lotta' fun together, for I was starting to like him, and would no doubt get on with him as my partner... UNLESS he calls me Larsie boy' again.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Cassandra Anthemyst, I am very sorry that you haven't seen the movie and aren't getting my fanfic, cos I'd like you to understand what's going on, since you make up for half my reviewers, the other half being Frankie. (Who is only reviewing cos she's nice, most probably. Thanks anyway, Frankie!) Oh, and please, _someone_ tell me what is so wrong with my stories. How do some people write one chapter and get 30 (exaggeration) reviews?!?! It takes me four chapters to get four reviews. Maybe if I update less often, you people will _finally_ review.....  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own MIB, MIIB, TPD, and this fic was partially thought up by CrazyBut2002. Feel free to laugh, eat on the chair, sleep on the table, and review!!!  
  
~J's POV~  
Right. Singing's my domain. No problem. But it wasn't as easy at it might seem, when I was trying to sing _and_ spot a new partner without making it seem obvious. I can't believe that guy, Z. He promised me an alien to spot the most suitable partner, and what does it do? WHAT DOES IT DO?! It _malfunctions_. So there I am, singing, and this alien tries to kill me. I complained to Z about his little hiccup, and he looks at me all coolly, saying, It did the job, didn't it?  
  
Well. That's a fine way to look at it, considering _he_ wasn't the one who had to endure some appallingly bad breath. But I suppose it _did_ work, cos now I have a new partner. His employer has agreed to let him join if we provide him with a new bodyguard. Lars is a strange guy, I must say. He -and that really tall girl- seemed sad and maybe even slightly tearful to say a goodbye, even though that stupid device was supposed to make him _want_ to join. Since WHEN did mistress and bodyguard ever like each other so much.  
  
...and HELLO? It's just temporary, until we get rid of the cause of all these new aliens. It's not like he's gonna _die_ or something, I'll take care of him.  
  
_Like you took care of K? I don't think so..._ Hey! LARS! I explained all about K to him, and what does he do? BARGES in on my private thoughts... hey! How _did_ he do that, anyway? _I can read thoughts... how do you think I knew all about Michael and Mia?_ Mikenmia? Who on earth is _that_? What an unfortunate name! Anyway, so now we're off to the HQ, so that Lars can meet the rest of the agents.  
  
Still, I _do_ wish K were here. Together, we three could have been friends. We could have been J,K,L!  
  
A/N Yeah, short. Whatever. Cassie, I hope you get this fic, and if you don't, I might have nightmares. Frankie, hello! I'm only addressing you two because I know no one else is reading this. Oh yeah, a bit of randomness on my part. It WAS gonna be a nice, proper fic, but heck! It _is_ part of the freakyfic project!  
  
Oh, and does ANYONE like Lars? He's one of the coolest characters!!!


	6. Welcome to the MIB

A/N Um, I have an essay that I've already delayed working on for... a week. It's due on thursday, and I _have_ to get working on it. But anyway, since Frankie (I think you did) and princessvampire were so kind as to review, I'm writing a quick chapter anyway. :) Formal apology to CrazyNut2002, who I called CrazyBut2002, and nearly just called CrankyNut2002.   
  
Disclaimer: I do not own MIB, MIIB, TPD, and this fic was partially thought up by CrazyNut2002. Feel free to laugh, row across Australia, kiss that adorable monkey, and review!!! Oh, and be warned... wackiness ensues!  
  
~Lar's POV~  
The HQ was _cool_. But, slapping my bland expression on, no one could have to the awe I felt looking upon the... it was just _awesome_! And, I had never had so many good morning, Ls before. J seemed pretty annoyed that I was getting this much attention. I resisted the urget to check his thoughts.  
  
J turned to me. L, I needed a partner to help me fight this sudden outburst of aliens, and you're the only man for the job. I thank you for joining, on behalf of myself and the MIB. He grinned. And now that the formalities are over, let's go party!.... you've got enough party and drink invitations to share with me? I laughed. Sure thing, partner. Let's go!  
  
Wait, what's going on? I'm becoming eccentric! Sure, Lars the schoolboy had been high half the time. But Lars the bodyguard.... he was emotionless, nothing affected him. Hmm.... what would Lars the MIB agent be? I've always dreamed of becoming a member of the FIB. This is even better!  
  
Can't wait to go to the party and meet some other agents... wonder what they'll be like?  
  
~~ J ~~  
Whoa, baby! This is some party! ...they never threw one like it for me, you know. ArGH! J, you're going to stop this flow of jealousy, and just enjoy the party. Why shouldn't you? Lars is a great guy!  
  
I relaxed and began one-man dancing. I sang, Michael Jackson style. Seeing Lars look up from his flock of admiring fans, (no jealousy, J. No jealousy) I waved him over. Hey, I could have part of the fun too, couldn't I? That guy was having too much fun, and it wasn't good for him. Since I'm his partner... I'll help him by taking on some of the burden too! Yup, so in wanting a little attention, I'm helping him.... stuff it. Lars came over, and we had a little dance competition.  
  
After a little while, probably around 45 minutes of intense competition, I fell back with a groan. Sheesh that guy was good. I've never been bested in dancing before! Now that guy's getting even _more_ attention.  
  
ArgH! This can't be... I just want it to be tomorrow so I can get to work!  
  
Lars glanced at me, and cleared his throat. Everyone -including me- looked at him expectantly. After all, it _was_ in his honour. I thank you all for cordially making me feel welcome. Lars paused while the cheers died down. But I think I am tired, and I wish to stop partying now. By all means, carry on partying without me. In fact, I beg you to do so. Wild cheering. Darn. How does that guy do it?  
  
Lars looked at me, and we left the place. Hey, L, why did we leave so early? Lars shrugged. Because you were looking uncomfortable, and didn't seem willing to leave without me. I stared. He was such a nice bloke, and there I was, envious of the attention he was receiving, even though he was probably an orphan, or some of that dramatic rubbish that girl's are always reading about.  
  
Lars gave me a strange look. He seemed about to say something, then stopped. Give it up, buddy. I KNOW you can read my mind, you little privacy-invader.  
  
Lars stared, eyeballs threatening to pop out of their sockets. Then, regaining his composure, Lars laughed.  
  
A/N Yeah, how was it? It was going to be longer, but I got that stupid essay!


End file.
